Today’s fiction installment is from book two of the Medici Protectorate series, Mind Control. We join Jo and Vinnie as they’re trying to figure out who will stay in which bedroom of a luxury hotel suite they’re being forced to share. How they got in that situation in the first place is a story in and of itself, and you can learn all about it in the novel. Meanwhile, here is an excerpt.
She crossed the common area to the other bedroom door. It was a mirror image of the first, except the reds and greens were midnight blues and icy lavenders. Every detail was mimicked, right down to the number of truffles on the plate.
This room didn’t say romance.
It said sex.
The darker palate brought out a more visceral, passionate response in her. She was certain Donni would have a thousand reasons why those colors elicited that response, but she didn’t care. She was so hot she thought about sleeping on the balcony.
Turning around, she found Vinnie. Right there. Again.
“So, do you want the blue one?” she asked.
“Which do you want?”
“I’ll… I’ll take the red.”
“The red looks comfortable.”
“You think so? Would you prefer I take the blue?” She moved the collar of her shirt and fluttered it a bit to try to get some air. Even though the fireplaces weren’t lit, it was sweltering. She took a step away from him, trying to get some air and some distance, but with each step back she made, he advanced a step toward her.
“What do you think of the blue?”
What did she think of the blue? She thought it was decadent. Delicious.
Or maybe that was the man standing in front of her.
“I’ll take the red,” she said.
“I think I’ll join you.”
“You’re not invited.”
He cocked a brow, but didn’t answer her.
“Yes, I know big ole He-Man can bust the door down and get to me.” She was flustered and started rambling. “But you won’t. You have more honor than that. You’re here to protect me, not molest me.”
He raised both brows, and she realized that coming from her, he’d have been offended by her statement. But she hadn’t meant it that way. Funny, but with Vinnie, she thought about her high school trauma less and less.
To smooth things over, she babbled on. “Not that I think you’re capable of molesting someone. I’m mean, I know you could, you just wouldn’t.” If her foot went any further into her mouth, she’d choke on it.
Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It might shut her up.
“I mean, I trust you. Not enough to share a bed, but still…”
When a grin started slowly spreading across his face, she gave up.
“I’m going to bed now. Goodnight.” She pushed past him and started toward her bedroom.
“Jo,” he said, his voice a soft caress to her ears.
She stopped but didn’t turn around.
“Before this is over, you’ll change your mind.”
There was no way she was answering him. She entered her bedroom and closed the door. Leaning against it, she sighed.
Damn it. He was probably right.
This post inspired by the WordPress daily prompt: Visceral.